


on weathered shore

by cartographers



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Pornography, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartographers/pseuds/cartographers
Summary: Johnny Silverhand was many things — washed-up rockstar, former terrorist, womanizer extraordinaire, and occasional dickhead — but one thing he wasn’t was a heartless bastard. Sure, he and V weren’t exactly best chooms and exchanged heated barbs most of the time, but Johnny would never undeservedly give her shit. Especially not for something like this.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Female V, Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86





	on weathered shore

**Author's Note:**

> Side Quest spoilers: The Hunt, They Won't Go When I Go, Sweet Dreams, Dirty Biz
> 
> TW: minor allusions to child sexual abuse, minor implication of sexual abuse — to avoid, skip the paragraphs denoted by 「」
> 
> Title from Broken - S. Carey

Johnny Silverhand’s interest was piqued when the familiar lilt of “Welcome to Clouds” reached his ears. _Oh ho! Interesting_ , he sneered into existence, nestling himself into the worn leather chair at the end of the hallway. His little merc was too preoccupied with the blue-haired receptionist to notice him making an appearance.

Materializing a lit cigarette in hand, he took a few drags and waited for his ‘brain-dead host’ to finally take notice of him. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised V was here to “get her bean flicked” given how much of a raging bitch she had been lately. Chick was wound tighter than the stick up that one ‘Saka scum’s ass. She needed to get laid. _Badly_.

Thanking the receptionist, said woman was near giddy with excitement as she made her way down the hallway towards Johnny — until she spotted him. “What?” She ground out through grit teeth, wrenching open the nearby locker with more force than necessary, her mood now soured.

Johnny almost felt offended that a mere glimpse of his ruggedly handsome face would sour her mood just so — keyword: _almost_. “Nothin’,” he drawled innocently, to which V let out a sharp bark of laughter — she didn’t believe him and he couldn’t blame her. “‘M just surprised,” he began nonchalantly, reveling in how tense V’s back had suddenly become in anticipation of his jab at her. “Sweet lil’ V visitin’ this kinda place?” 

V’s gaze dropped to him, a saccharine smile spreading across her lips, “How ‘bout you go an’ fuck yourself?” She suggested sweetly, flipping him off for good measure.

Unperturbed, Johnny adjusted his aviators to perch on the tip of his nose so he could meet V’s gaze. “Don’t need ‘ta, princess. ‘Specially with you doin’ it for the both of us,” he leered, rivaling her saccharine smile with his own.

Slamming the locker shut, V whipped around to face him, pointing a manicured finger in his face. “ _Fuck off_ , Johnny,” she seethed, jamming her unoccupied hand into her jacket pocket, only to retrieve a telltale blue pill.

Johnny balked. _Shit_. “Oh, come on—” he began to grumble, as V waggled the Omega blocker in his face before popping it into her mouth and dry swallowing with a grimace. Within a few seconds he could feel his conscience beginning to fade as his body began to fizzle in and out of existence. “Cunt!” He managed to yell out, before feeling himself fade into nothingness.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he awoke to the darkness of V’s apartment, her small form curled up in that ridiculous position of hers on the edge of the bed, sound asleep. Peering over her sleeping form, Johnny couldn’t discern whether or not she had gotten her needs _satisfied_ , so to speak. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion and she was sleeping soundly. And well, Johnny wasn’t sure about her, but he always slept like a baby after a good fuck.

* * *

Not two weeks later did Johnny find himself blinded by the neon pink signage of Clouds. 

V let out an annoyed groan when she spotted his reclined form in what was sure to become his usual seat. “You gonna behave?” She asked pointedly, sparing him a glance as she placed her belongings in the nearby locker.

“Scout’s honor,” Johnny beamed, holding his organic hand up in a three figured salute.

“Bullshit!” V snorted, immediately calling his bluff, “You were never a boy scout, ya gonk.”

“Ah. Got me there,” he smiled sheepishly, feigning innocence.

There was a pause as V casted a cursory glance at Johnny, the Omega blockers in hand. With a weary sigh, she hesitantly placed the bottle in the locker before closing its door with a gentle click. Spinning on her heel, she stared down at him with crossed arms. “Don’t make me regret this,” she hissed; _Please,_ begged her mind.

Johnny scoffed, “Relax, princess. Ain’t nothin’ I seen before.” This earned him a withering glare from the now-seething woman. Reflexively, he raised his palms in a yielding manner, hoping to mollify her. “I ain’t gonna peek!” He bellowed, running an exasperated hand through his dark locks. “Christ, V! Why the fuck would I watch you when there’s a bunch’a whores here?”

A brief look of hurt flashed across her face before she grimaced and sniffed indignantly. Turning on her heel, V stomped away from him. “Asshole!” She hissed under her breath, retreating to her designated room.

Rolling his eyes, Johnny scoffed. “Cunt!” He retorted immaturely, knowing full well V couldn’t hear him. _Whatever!_ He thought with a huff, jumping to his feet. He wasn’t going to let that bitch ruin his fun — especially not when he had front-row seats to best free show Night City had to offer: depraved sex.

* * *

It wasn’t until her third trip to Clouds that Johnny began to notice a pattern. 

Since he was true to his word for not making an unwelcome appearance during her last romp, V decided to forgo the Omega blockers completely; though the threat of still taking them loomed in the air.

Johnny wasn’t _planning_ to peep on her, but after being subjected to 15-minutes of God-awful lazrpop that was blaring mind-numbingly loud in the lobby, Johnny was desperate to be _anywhere_ but there. Sure, he could’ve simply retreated back into her headspace where he would’ve remained unaware of both his and her surroundings, but where was the fun in that? Besides, curiosity was beginning to get the better of him the more he thought about what V was like in the sack.

He could feel his imagination beginning to run wild as he tried to paste a scene together with bits and pieces of her previous sexual encounters he’d seen from her fleeting memories. Materializing in her designated room, he wasn’t quite prepared for this. What he saw instead made him feel something awful deep in his chest.

In the center of the bed was V, curled up into a tiny ball, her shoulders wracking with heavy sobs as the doll rubbed soothing circles into her heaving back. “I-I-I-I n-n-nailed him t-to it a-an’ an’—” V tried to gasp out between hiccupping breaths, being too overwrought with shuddering sobs to continue. The doll — Skye, he vaguely remembers — held the trembling woman in her arms, murmuring soothing words and kisses into the crown of her head.

_Fuck_ , Johnny nearly uttered aloud, realization dawning on him. She was talking about Joshua Stephenson and his fucked up “last request” of having V play the role of his executioner in his crucifixion. That shit was grim, even for Johnny.

And then it clicked. 

「 The first time she went to Clouds — for pleasure, not business — was not long after V had taken care of the father and son XBD duo whose specialty was children. Johnny could remember the white knuckled grip she held on her pistol as she dug barrel harder into the son’s temple as he began to babble incessantly — much to his father’s chagrin — about the _other_ XBDs they had and that he wasn’t sure _which_ victim V was talking about. 」

It was then he could feel something _snap_ in her as she pulled the trigger and was left staring coldly into the lifeless eyes of the son, blood slowly seeping from his bullet wound as his father’s wails permeated the air. He too shared the same fate not long after, too far gone in his hysteria to even put up a fight. 

V had remained eerily collected as she silently rifled through their XBD collection, searching for the raws that Regina Jones had requested. Johnny hadn’t dared to make an appearance or say a word — it was unsettling how mechanically she went about the rest of the studio and how oddly _calm_ she was reporting to the Watson fixer of what had gone down; almost as if she was in a fugue of some sort.

「 The second time was immediately after her massive fuckup of landing herself in a scav haunt, stripped bare of her weapons and clothes. Johnny would never admit it, but at the time he was scared out of his goddamn mind — helpless to watch as the scavs perversely divested her of her clothes with both vulgar hands and eyes lasciviously roving over her form, before tossing her into the icy bath like she was already a fucking corpse. 」

And what had he done? Retreated to his old ways and acted like a dick when she awoke — called her “Night City’s dumbest merc” despite the look of abject fear, which quickly faded to hurt, in her eyes.

Armed with nothing but her mantis blades and Johnny at her six, they somehow managed to make it out alive, despite their stacked odds of 12 armed scavs to one naked, agitated merc. They were on such an adrenaline high that Johnny didn’t even blink at her declaration of going to Clouds. After all, what better way to feel alive than a good near-death-experience fuck?

A choked sob broke him out of his reverie. Sparing one last glance at his distraught merc, Johnny glitched himself out of the room, reappearing on the leather armchair from earlier. The awful feeling was back in his chest and he could almost put a name to it. _Shame?_ He fleetingly thought, before grimacing and pulling out a much-needed cigarette.

Taking a long drag, he exhaled through grit teeth. “Fuck!” He let out a frustrated growl, slamming his fist into the arm of the chair. Johnny Silverhand was many things — washed-up rockstar, former terrorist, womanizer extraordinaire, and occasional dickhead — but one thing he wasn’t was a heartless bastard. Sure, he and V weren’t exactly best chooms and exchanged heated barbs most of the time, but Johnny would never undeservedly give her shit. Especially not for something like this.

It hurt to know that V didn’t think she could trust him on intimate matters such as this. That she thought so lowly of him that he would mock her for being human. After seeing how small and fragile she had looked earlier, he wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms in a tight embrace, with a fierce promise of zeroing the fucker that hurt her. “Shit,” he groaned, scrubbing his face with a worrying palm. She was growing on him — he actually _cared_ about her.

He was chain smoking by the time V exited the room; a habit of his whenever he was overwrought with nerves — or in this case: guilt. Plucking her things from the nearby locker, V sighed suddenly, turning to shoot him a quirked brow. _What is it?_ Her expression read.

Johnny glanced up at her, pretending not to notice her reddened nose or the puffy state of her eyes. “S’nothin’,” he mumbled, tossing the remains of his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the sole of his boot.

Before V could open her mouth to retort, Johnny was up out of his seat and glitching down the hallway, desperate for fresh air — all these newfound emotions were stifling. Slightly winded, she caught up with him in the elevator, though it wasn’t like he could operate it anyways. “What’s up with you?” She asked, her tone devoid of aggression for once — a hint of genuine concern in her voice.

Luckily, her ringing holo saved him from having to fumble for a reply. “River,” she answered hesitantly, casting a furtive glance at Johnny, knowing the mere mention of the cop’s name put her cohabitant in a foul mood. 

“V, hey. I need your help.”

* * *

As soon as the Trauma Team’s AV was up and out of sight, Johnny could feel a wave of exhaustion wash over V — though he knew she wouldn’t let it show and instead put on her brave façade, like she always did. _Not here_ , he could hear her repeating to herself, like a mantra.

The drive back to V’s apartment was uncomfortably silent, despite the blare of the radio and the buzzing of Night City nightlife. Johnny was grateful that V had decided to take Jackie’s ARCH this time, giving the ex-rocker an excuse not to make an appearance. Though he doubted she wanted any company or interaction right now, with how white-knuckled her grip was on the handlebars and how tightly her jaw was clenched.

Upon crossing the threshold of her apartment, V hastily began to divest herself of her clothing and gear, eager for a shower — eager to clean herself of the filth of Edgewood Farm. Johnny gave her privacy and made himself scarce during her undressing and shower, only to reappear when she looked ready to head out the door.

“‘M goin’ to Clouds,” she mumbled dazedly, grabbing a jacket from the closet and slipping it on with trembling fingers. As she turned and made her way to the door, Johnny suddenly appeared, blocking her path.

Without his trademark aviators, his face appeared more severe than usual. “V…” He began softly, his tone serious.

“What?” She looked up at his face, refusing to meet his gaze directly. Her eyes were wide and glossy, the slightest tremble in her lip.

“It’s okay.”

“W-What?” She chuckled nervously, hysterical laughter beginning to bubble in her throat.

“It’s okay,” Johnny repeated firmly, his earnest eyes boring into panicked ones. Gripping her by the shoulders, he pulled her into an embrace; his cold, metallic hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of her back.

Immediately he could feel the levee break as she crumpled bonelessly into his arms, her back beginning to wrack with sobs. Carefully, Johnny lowered their entangled forms gently to the floor, moving her small frame to cradle her protectively in his lap. 

She was crying uncontrollably now, desperately clutching at the front of his shirt as if it were her lifeline, her small fingers tangling in his dog tags. Her face, wet with hot tears, burrowed further into his neck as he murmured soothing words into her hair, his lips occasionally pressing a sweet kiss into her crown.

“I got you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that as tough as V makes herself out to be, she’s still very much human and takes shit hard and needs a good ol’ cathartic cry since she internalizes everything. And what better way to let yourself be vulnerable than to let it all out in front of someone who’ll fully cater to your needs and won’t even remember a thing?


End file.
